


Screaming in the dark

by Berocca



Category: Naruto
Genre: Community: kakairu_fest, Fluff and Smut, KakaIru Month 2015, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4261560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berocca/pseuds/Berocca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t just the pranks that made the Third Hokage keep a careful eye on Iruka after the Kyuubi attack. Kakashi doesn't know what he's getting into.</p><p>Written for the Day 25 prompt <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucFHDxhCVwE">Howl by Florence and the Machine</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Screaming in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it's kinda long..if you're in the mood for a well-written, short fic well then uh.. this ain't well written _or_ short, but i did try, and i hope you like it.  
>  And I also wanted to say how I really loved the song prompt but I don't think I did any justice to it T-T
> 
> Warnings for pre-Shippuden spoilers, and some swear words and some porn. Yes it's rated Explicit for a reason wink wink 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are _really_ appreciated! I hope you like it.

It wasn’t just the pranks that made the Third Hokage keep a careful eye on Iruka after the Kyuubi attack.

Sarutobi Hiruzen distinctly remembered the little boy amongst the thousands of people in his village because of the purity of happiness in his face. Not all children were as carefree or as freely trusting and loving as this little boy. Some children were much older than their years; it showed in their slightly subdued demeanour or calculating looks, and it made a person feel immeasurably tired and old to see something like that in a child’s face.

_*_

_Sliced apart efficiently with these hands, with these weapons that she always kept sharp._

An ANBU was weary and it was her birthday. She was thirty two today. That was getting quite old in the shinobi world, since shinobi often died or retired in their thirties.

She didn’t know whether to be happy; proud that her skills had been proven adequate by the world; or to cry. Cry for the countless lives she had taken in her life; despairing at her empty home, where nothing but the sickening doubts were waiting for her. Voices that crept up from the floor and the walls, voices that whispered that if only she had never been born, there would be so many more lives walking on the earth today.

She shakily, silently, moved across the rooftops. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the sun was setting with a bright orange glow but she did not see it. She could only see the gaping black of her apartment windows in the distance, getting closer and closer. The curtains almost imperceptibly moved, and she was frightened. The ghosts of her victims seemed to be crowding around the window for her return.

She tore her gaze away and thought that walking along the road would make the journey a bit longer, so she jumped down to the ground but a sudden, sharp cry caught her attention.

The little boy stared up at her in shock. She wasn’t surprised, any normal person would be shocked at a monster –

But then he scowled and pushed at one of her feet. The little hazel fingers only covered a quarter of her sandal. Dumbly, she moved her foot, and saw a patch of small daisies. The little boy made a show of grumbling and tried to set the daisies right again, and the tiny flowers slowly flexed back to their original positions, only a little bent by their brief ordeal.

She couldn’t take her eyes away from the patch of resilient flowers. She stood as still as a rock as the boy stood up and clumsily brushed his knees, almost toppling over forwards but catching himself, and then did something that floored her.

He tugged her hand and pushed and pulled at her previously blood-stained, deadly long fingers with his warm, dirt-smeared, uncoordinated chubby ones.

When he let go, her arm still remained comically half-outstretched like a statue, she saw a grubby little daisy ring on her little finger. Some of the petals of the ring were bent and a few had fallen off, but the tiny daisy, with petals of pure white and little flecks of pink, shone on her finger like a single star in the darkest night.

She stared at it and only took her eyes off it when the boy in front of her held out his hand again.

He looked at her with hazel brown eyes of earnestness and innocence, and garbled something in a high, childish voice; something about her hair and …marriage?

When she still didn’t move, he astonishingly blushed bright red and shoved a tiny bunch of the white and pink-fletched daisies at her hand and ran away. He tripped and rolled and she immediately wanted to pick him up but he glanced back at her, face a brighter red than before, and quickly stumbled up and ran away again towards a bench where a pair of shinobi were sitting.

She jumped away back on the roof, but couldn’t quite leave yet, and so she looked down at the little family.

The boy buried his head in his mother’s arm and started to wail softly.

“You can’t keep going around proposing to everyone, Iruka,” chuckled the kunoichi. “Not everyone is going to accept it like we did.” The man laughed softly beside them. It was obvious he was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Why not?” The boy’s voice was muffled by his mother’s sleeve but loud as he yelled in childish embarrassment and indignation. “You said I could propose to anyone I liked! I liked _onee_ -san! Her hair was black and pretty!”

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with you,” said the man affectionately. “Going to be a real heartbreaker, just like your dad.”

As the mother rolled her eyes, the ANBU silently moved across the rooftops again. Her face had formed a little smile. When she got home, she carefully pressed her little bouquet between the pages of her favourite book, and painstakingly took the delicate ring off her finger and left it on a ledge to dry. The afternoon sun lit her little apartment golden, and looking at the star on her ledge, she couldn’t see any shadows in her room at all.

*

Hiruzen knew more than one shinobi who had glanced at the little child playing in his backyard or in the playground on their way in or out of a mission. There were a few other children that had the same level of sweetness and purity and most of them could be found at the playground. More than a few who were in ANBU secretly took a path that passed by the playground or the Umino family house.

Kohari and Ikkaku, jounin themselves, understood these silent, fleeting looks towards the oblivious innocence that was their son. Those shinobi had no one else, they knew. The only precaution they took was to keep a slightly more wary eye on their son, though they didn’t have to. There was more than one protective guardian of the sweet child.

*

The air was chilly and ominous, and when the sudden burst of chakra washed over his senses, he knew.

He rushed out and started running to where Kushina and his wife Biwako should be, and saw the fox-demon, lashing out at the hordes of his shinobi throwing themselves at it. His eyes grew wide as he saw Minato arriving on the scene, and he gathered his own chakra to help.

On the frontlines, a black-haired, masked ANBU leaped out of the top of a tree and slashed an oncoming claw with her chakra enhanced blade.

It didn’t do any damage but it bought some time for a kunoichi on the ground to get to the one thing that the ANBU firmly believed didn’t belong here at this moment.

“Iruka… are you hurt?”

The ANBU above suffered a huge blow from a tail of the beast. The demon fox had turned slightly, and wasn’t even looking their way. She was no match, none of them here were a match for it, but she had to protect…something. Her arms and ribs broke, amongst many other things, but she glanced down as her body fell, her eyes seeing something that relieved her and broke her heart at the same time.

The boy was being dragged away from the battle. She was glad he would be safe. His parents were fallen and bleeding on the ground, and his eyes were blown wide, streaming tears like rain and breaking her heart, eyes taking in everything; the blood and fire of this night. Before she hit the ground, she thought that maybe there was a brief moment when he had seen her; a person who held him as a symbol of life and happiness. Maybe he remembered her long black hair.

As she fell from the vast height, her tattered pocket released a little clear sleeve with a dried daisy ring in it, and she saw it crumbling to ashes in the heat of someone’s jutsu. She hit the ground and closed her eyes for the final time, hoping that he would continue to live and love with abandon; live and love for her share too.

*

Iruka felt the wild rush that he usually got from a prank as he ran through the Academy corridor.

“Iruka! When I catch you, you are going to be in serious trouble, young man!” The enraged voice of his teacher was drowned by the laughter of his classmates.

Iruka gleefully vaulted an open window and raced across the field, around the tree and–

Iruka’s face slammed into a wall of red and white.

He looked up and then glowered at the ground. He couldn’t escape and pull off the last part of the prank when the Hokage himself had caught him.

“Where are you going, Iruka? I don’t think class has finished yet,” said the Third.

“Hn.” Iruka had no intention of telling the Hokage. Maybe if he could just edge around him and reach the lever, his prank would be complete and he would see the looks on all their faces as they realized how amazing it was.

Hiruzen sighed internally, and looked at the child.

This child had so much potential and capacity for love, having received so much as a child. But the last few months had changed him and he could see the edges of darkness around the boy’s eyes; he had gone from all the attention he wanted to nothing. Some of his shinobi could survive on much less acknowledgement, but if he left Iruka alone now…he suppressed some very dark thoughts, afraid of the kind of shinobi Iruka would turn into.

After all, Madara’s capacity for love was the main thing that had turned him into the monster of the legends.

Someone had to give and receive all of this little boy’s pure love, and maybe that would be just enough to stop the sweet child being consumed by the rage of rejection and hate; but there was only so much he could do as the Hokage.

“Iruka. If you have been dismissed early, I would like to have some lunch with you,” said Hiruzen kindly. “I haven’t had the chance to eat yet. What do you say to some ramen?”

Iruka looked up at him, eyes already a little brighter with happiness.

“Well, if you haven’t eaten yet, then yeah,” said the boy carefully.

Iruka got onto his feet and brushed his pants. Hiruzen saw him glance quickly at the tree, and he hid a grin.

“Atsushi-sensei seems to be upset, would you know why?” asked Hiruzen, slowly walking down the street.

Iruka quickly pulled a string hidden along the grooves of the trunk when the Third had turned his back, and it released a trap that covered the academy field with eye-searing pink glitter.

“N…o, no I don’t, Hokage-sama! Let’s go, I’m starving. I want pork ramen and miso and shoyu…”

Hiruzen gave a grudging nod inside his head at the Iruka’s creativity and planning. It also reaffirmed that he was doing the right thing in spending more time with the boy, and he chatted with Iruka about the types of ramen. And if he could tune out the enraged shriek of ‘ _Hokage-sama_ ’ from Atsushi then that was just a happy coincidence.

*

Iruka had long ago accepted his strengths and weaknesses, and he had found that the beating need for his parents and their unconditional love could be somewhat placated with his students and the friends who needed him, especially after the Third’s death.

Asuma tried hard not to show it, but he needed and coddled Iruka in a big-brotherly way, such as throwing a takeaway bag of leftover dango at him after work (which somehow happened to be Iruka’s favourite flavour) or asking Iruka to proofread a card that a theoretical friend, whom Iruka definitely didn’t know, wanted to write to his theoretical girlfriend, whom Iruka most definitely didn’t know.

“I doubt Kurenai-san will appreciate, _I want to unwrap your bandages and use it to wrap my soul,_ ” said Iruka with a straight face.

Asuma choked on his cigarette, face flushed red.

“I, I didn’t write that! Damn Shiranui! Or Hatake, or… fucking ninjas, how do they always get everywhere!” Asuma growled and snatched the piece of paper away from Iruka.

“Apart from that, I think the other bits were fine. Maybe you could add, _always admiring the luscious line of your lips,_ ” and Iruka, unable to hold back his snicker any longer.

“Fuck you too, Umino.”

Iruka laughed out loud and walked along the street with Asuma.

When Asuma turned left for the Sarutobi compound, Iruka kept walking on towards his house, grinning when two familiar chakra signals came into step with him.

“Did you see what I wrote?” sniggered Genma. “It’s too easy to distract him. You just say _Kurenai_ and he turns his head. It’s disgraceful that he’s a jounin.”

“Yeah. Like you don’t have a secret word yourself,” snorted Iruka.

“You sneaky bastard. Know all our secrets, do you.” Genma smirked and Raidou blushed and looked at a stall.

“Anyway, I bet you five hundred ryo that Kurenai’s going to laugh tomorrow,” said Iruka. He innocently weighed some oranges from a stall.

“Are you talking about a full out laugh? Or a giggle. What are we talking about here?” Genma flipped out a book from his front pocket.

Raidou sighed and bought some oranges too.

“If you don’t have a mission this week, I’m going to buy a lot of these. You keep eating all of mine,” said Raidou, his sensible voice sounding exasperated.

“But I only like it when you’re peeling them, Raidou.”

“You mean you can’t be bothered peeling oranges. They’re almost the easiest fruit to peel.”

“No, I mean I only eat them after you peel them because afterwards I get to taste them on your fingers–“

“YES JUST THESE TODAY, THANK YOU,” said Raidou loudly to the stall-owner, face beet-red.

Genma grinned triumphantly around his senbon and turned to Iruka again.

“So back to the stakes. I’ve got Gai at 500 ryo saying that Asuma will drop onto his knees and propose, Aoba at 400 with Asuma getting a bloody nose, and you want 500 at a giggle from Kurenai?” said Genma. “I don’t know if anybody’s going to take you up on that one. Kurenai sometimes giggles, it’s not that rare.”

“Nope. I mean 500 at a full-out laugh from Kurenai,” said Iruka, smugly.

“ _Iiinteresting_. Full-out-laugh,” said Genma as he wrote in his notebook.

“How are you going to achieve that?” asked Raidou, trying to keep his voice sounding normal.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her laugh out loud before,” said Genma.

Iruka just smiled, innocently. Genma and Raidou once again wondered how his face could shine so sweetly but raise the hairs on their necks.

“You’ll see it tomorrow then.” Iruka waved and took his shopping bag with him down the street.

“ _Interesting_. Let’s get some more bets before we go home, Raidou. Oh look, there’s Asuma’s team. Reckon it’s bad form to get teenagers to gamble?”

“ _Yes_. Don’t drag them into this, you shouldn’t be taking their money anyway. Let’s go home.”

“If you say so.” Genma grinned sweetly and made a show of following Raidou, but sneaked off to rope in Ino, Shikamaru and Chouji.

“Genma.”

“ _Okay_ , I’m coming.”

*

Shinobi were henged as civilians in the park, but Iruka didn’t bother. He rested up in a tree, his back leaning against the trunk.

Asuma and Kurenai were walking slowly, and to everyone’s (except Iruka’s) surprise, when Asuma gave her some flowers and a card, she read it and laughed out loud.

Kurenai had received a lot of cards from Asuma before. The first one she ever got had been tucked into her windowsill, with the words, _undying, faifthful_.

It was sweet, because it had been so carefully chosen by her lover after they had spent their first night together.

Similarly, the next few cards were sincere and precious, but most of the rest were often written in more than one type of handwriting. Asuma’s broad, strong scrawl, and another scrawl trying to imitate his, saying things like, _I would shave my beard for you_ and _I smoke because your smokey eyes make me never want to stop_. She could recognize the most common culprits, Genma, Anko and sometimes even Ibiki. She smiled and kept them, kissing Asuma on the cheek and showing him later how much she appreciated him. He didn’t know about their friends’ pranks, the gentle man.

But this one made her laugh out loud, as Iruka up in his tree smugly knew it would.

_I love you_

_like Hinata loves Naruto_

Whoever had imitated Asuma’s handwriting had been perfect. It actually looked like the man had written all of it himself. Just thinking about Hinata’s shy blushing and fainting, trailing and daydreaming; and superimposing Asuma, her big, burly man, into the shy little girl’s place made her laugh like she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

Asuma blushed as red as her fingernails and she didn’t care about all her less-than-subtle friends pretending to be the mailman or the electrician in the park. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and good, and Asuma delicately cradled her body as she made the signs to transport them to her apartment.

Iruka grinned in his tree as there was an uproar after their departure.

Anko, the ‘electrician’ complained loudly as she gave money to Aoba, and had to fork out more for Iruka. The general rowdiness down below didn’t mask a low voice reaching Iruka’s ears.

“Seems like I owe you five hundred too, sensei.”

Iruka glanced up, surprised to find the Copy-nin slouched on the branch above his. That man could be so stealthy and it irked Iruka.

He hid the minor irritation and smirked.

“You should have known not to bet against me, Kakashi-san.”

“Seems I have learnt my lesson, then.”

Iruka grinned and jumped down to collect the rest of his earnings.

He spent it all on the massive night out with his friends that night, in any case. Iruka wasn’t one to take a friendly bet seriously and keep the money to himself. Asuma and Kurenai had even showed up sometime in the night, and Iruka ended up drinking more than he usually did.

Stumbling slightly into his house, he took his sandals off and groped for the light switch. He didn’t really need to turn it on to make it to the shower, seeing as how his apartment was so small and he knew where everything was anyway, but it was a habit.

After he was clean, he turned off the lights again and took the few steps to his bed, collapsing on it. From his position of lying on his stomach, head to one side, he looked at his small room, the moon lighting up his small desk, the clock ticking on the wall in the ringing silence. And despite the alcohol, it took him a little longer tonight to fall asleep.

*

Iruka wondered how many wishes a person could hold in.

He had been holding in so many wishes since he had ended up alone that his chest felt heavy nearly all the time.

But things like _this_ , stupid, simple things, Iruka thought he wouldn’t have had to bother wishing for, but apparently he was wrong. Iruka wished that Kakashi would turn his reports in on time.

There were always too many people waiting in the queue during this time of year. If he didn’t get to accept and file reports from… _god_ , all the way back to Aoba near the door, he would be late to dinner with Naruto again, and he would be leaving soon with Jiraiya. He glared at the smiling, silver-haired git in front of him for messing up his schedule yet again. The man just smiled and jutsu-ed away.

He wished Kakashi would write legibly and appropriately.

It was a damn pain to try and file something he did not understand, and for the fifth time in the last two weeks, he was stuck after the infuriating man had disappeared, trying to fill in a section that was written in almost made-up shorthand. He deciphered, _three Konoha nin, two enemy nin dead, three…children?_ Iruka checked the box it was written in. _Casualties_.

He rubbed his nose. Last week it had been _five enemy dead_ written in this section. That was already more dead than Iruka had seen in the past year. Iruka sighed, and looked out the window at the dark blue sky. He guessed it explained the strained handwriting.

*

He wished Kakashi would stop by Ichiraku’s more often.

Slurping noodles with Kakashi just being beside him made it easier to bear the weight of Naruto’s absence somehow. And it was always a challenging game to surreptitiously try and sneak more noodles into Kakashi’s bowl. Kakashi’s face, or at least the visible part of his face, doesn’t change in any way that Iruka can see, but Iruka knew that Kakashi was amused and let him sneakily feed him more.

Iruka knows that he’s being ‘interfering’ again, as Kakashi had put it a long time ago, but he strangely wishes that he could feed the lanky man. Probably because he always looked so skinny and the way he inhaled his food reminded him of Naruto, and buying food for Naruto had always made him feel mutually needed and cared about.

*

Iruka wished for Kakashi to stand in his line when he came back from all those missions that nobody knew about.

He felt like he was the only one who cared enough about how the other man was doing, with Tsunade being so busy these days. At least if he saw Kakashi each time he returned from a mission, he would be able to keep up with how physically hurt the man was and force some treatment on him if he pretended otherwise.

He always got this wish though, and had been getting it for the past five years now. It still did not stop a little anxious flutter in his chest whenever he saw Kakashi step into the room. The flutter lessened as it always did, but did not completely go away when Kakashi slid into his queue.

“Welcome back, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi gives a tired chuckle at Iruka’s sharp, x-ray gaze.

“Thank you, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka does not mind the somewhat dirty reports any more. The reports aren’t actually half as bad as they used to be, anyway. Instead, he blushes faintly at Kakashi’s almost fondly exasperated tone.

“Ichiraku’s Wednesday specials night, isn’t it, Iruka-sensei?”

Iruka is a bit surprised, but then grins brightly.

“Yes, it’s Naruto’s favourite; extra pork chashu ramen this week.”

Kakashi laughs appreciatively at that.

“Do you have their monthly schedule memorized?” His shoulders look a little more relaxed than before.

“Of course,” says Iruka, and smiles. He isn’t ashamed of openly being a ramen-lover, or showing that he’s missing Naruto as much as Kakashi is.

Some young genin behind Kakashi start to get restless.

“I’ll see you around then, Kakashi-sensei. Thank you for your hard work.”

Kakashi nods, and walks out the window.

Dinner is late at night because Iruka was late and Kakashi was also late.

Iruka felt a little warm. It was a feeling that had crept up on him like a cat slowly settling itself on his lap, and while it wasn’t unwelcome, he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with it yet. He and Kakashi were eating ramen separately, in mostly quiet, as usual. It might be the warmer weather, he mused, as he finished off most of his noodles. He looked up at the full moon, and imagined where Naruto was now, whether he missed Iruka as much as Iruka did, whether he would be strong enough to shoulder such a burden as this unsettling uneasiness in the air. He turned back to his bowl to drain it, but frowned when he noticed an unsubtle heap of more noodles.

It showed how tired and overworked he was these days, he realized, that he didn’t understand straight away that the noodles had come from Kakashi. When he did finally realize after a few seconds, he looked across the table to see Kakashi looking up at the sky. His pale face and hair were lit up, and he looked almost as if he was the moon; aloof, untouchable, glowing faintly white.

The strange, anxious flutter was back again, suddenly; but this time it was also squeezing his upper chest.

His throat and heart completely stopped when Kakashi slowly, deliberately, brought his gaze down, as if purposefully aiming to pierce Iruka. He felt as though he had been hit and was unable to move completely. Briefly, the thought of being poisoned flashed through his mind as he panicked at this unknown electrical surge through his body.

Iruka couldn’t read Kakashi’s face or body language through the sudden thick haze of thunder and lightning in his blood, and so he did the only thing that his body found acceptable to do; he stood, and held out a hand to help Kakashi out of a chair that even a toddler wouldn’t have needed help to get out of.

Kakashi smiled at Iruka, a look so calm, so quiet and lonely, and the slightest bit challenging; and Iruka was hit again, this time in a lower area on his body.

Kakashi took his hand and rose.

Iruka could feel the soft, worn leather of his glove on his palm, and the smooth, warm cling of Kakashi’s fingers on his skin as they walked to Iruka’s house.

Iruka wished he had more time, even before they had even really started.

Kakashi brought his mask down, revealing a smooth, pale face and he leaned forward, bringing the soft lips near. Iruka felt a flood ripping through his chest as some inner gate was torn open and he moaned, leaning in to capture the pale lips with his.

At Kakashi’s precise strokes of his slick, hot tongue coaxing Iruka inside his own mouth, Iruka’s head spun.

There was a roaring of blood through his veins, his body and soul responding to this man in an uncontrollable, almost _bloodlust_ like it had never done with anyone else before. Releasing a tortured moan, Iruka aggressively pushed the jounin against a wall and ran his tongue along Kakashi’s, ending with a suck and a bite on Kakashi’s bottom lip. At Kakashi’s ragged, choked-off cry, Iruka was lost to the violent storm.

He wished he had a blade in his hand, as his fingers roughly brushed up against the thick, coarse material of the jounin’s vest. Kakashi tried to help but his hands were getting in the way of the tight space between their bodies, and Iruka successfully unzipped and forced the rest off. Kakashi’s eye widened at Iruka’s intense ferocity, but Iruka was burning up in a fiery burst of what could only be _hell_ and he snarled as his mouth was dislodged from the jounin’s chest as Kakashi fumbled with Iruka’s vest zipper.

Iruka’s hands couldn’t get enough of the pale skin and he dragged his possessive fingers across the jounin, biting the juncture of the neck and the shoulders and revelled in the scent of the man and his harsh shout.

“God, Kakashi,” breathed Iruka, thrilling in the jounin’s shiver at his voice, his own hands moving on the pale chest and squeezing a nipple. “You are so beautiful.”

Kakashi, panting, looked at him and flushed.

“Iruka-sensei,” Sharingan Kakashi’s voice shook with need and Iruka knew he had lost control, and brought his mouth onto Kakashi’s, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked the jounin’s tongue and wetness into him.

Iruka slid one hand in Kakashi’s hair, excited by the feel of the coarse silver strands, and slid his other hand down Kakashi’s pants, gripping the leaking shaft and stroking the thickness. Kakashi bucked his hips and groaned, and Iruka glided down onto his knees, one hand pressing Kakashi against the wall, and licked up the underside of Kakashi’s length, relishing the hitch of the older man’s breath as he began to suck on his cock.

Iruka looked up as he took the entire length into his mouth, and Kakashi moaned, twining his long fingers in Iruka’s hair, holding it steady as he began to slowly fuck his face, sliding his cock in and out of his mouth. Iruka relaxed his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around his cock each time it slid in or out, and brought a hand down to tug at his neglected member.

“Iruka,” said Kakashi, losing it at the sight of Iruka pleasuring himself as he sucked on his cock, and he held Iruka’s face tightly against him, his cock sticking down Iruka’s throat as his balls exploded, hot cum shooting into his mouth. Iruka moaned as he felt the spurts of hot liquid and swallowed around the thick shaft, desperately stroking himself to completion, his cum splattering the wall. Iruka continued to suck through the aftershocks, not stopping until Kakashi was hard again, thighs trembling as he struggled to remain standing.

“I love the taste of you, Kakashi,” said Iruka mercilessly. “I want to suck and lick every inch of you until you can’t move.”

Kakashi’s eyes fluttered closed briefly and Iruka captured his lips again, heat searing through his skin as he pushed the jounin onto his bed. Kakashi barely had enough coordination to open the lube packet as Iruka sent him crazy from above him with his hot licks, and squeezed out too much on his fingers. Kakashi brushed Iruka’s balls with his dripping fingers, and started to play with the puckered entrance.

Iruka moaned long into Kakashi mouth, and Kakashi slowly dipped a finger inside, looking for a spot that made Iruka buck wildly into his hard groin. Kakashi couldn’t take it any slower, and pushed a second finger inside, and then a third, looking hazily for any sign of pain but only seeing savage lust in the ravenous dark eyes above.

“Gods, Kakashi, I want you inside me now,” Iruka snarled, and Kakashi was reduced to a strangled groan as Iruka positioned Kakashi’s cock at the entrance to his ass and lowered himself onto him.

“Yes, oh god, Kakashi,” he gasped, rocking his hips up and down Kakashi’s rock hard length. “Fuck me, Kakashi,” Iruka moaned, feeling Kakashi’s hands grab his ass.

Before Iruka could focus his eyes, Kakashi had flipped him onto his back, reversing their positions, his cock still inside his ass. He began slamming his cock into him, fucking him like crazy, chasing down the intensifying feeling in his balls and making Iruka shout roughly, eyes flying open as Kakashi kept hitting his prostate.

“Gods, Iruka,” Kakashi growled, his face screwed into a grimace as he continued to thrust into the tan body, taking a firm grip with his lubed hand on Iruka’s cock and pumping in time with each snap of his hips. Iruka could feel the jounin’s cock begin to grow even bigger inside his ass and when Kakashi bit along his jawline and sucked in an earlobe, the sensations of being completely full and on fire overwhelmed Iruka, and his body convulsed in a silent scream as his balls contracted, spilling out ribbons of hot liquid between their chests as Kakashi thrust erratically and quickly through Iruka’s orgasm. Kakashi jerked wildly into Iruka’s softening, spasming body once more, burying himself up to his balls as he threw back his head and yelled hoarsely, his cock pulsating as he shot his hot release deep into Iruka.

Breathing heavily, Kakashi groaned huskily as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Iruka’s.

Kakashi opened his eyes to the swirling storm of Iruka’s dark ones underneath, and his breath was taken from his chest as Iruka kissed him thoroughly, holding Kakashi as though he was the only thing keeping him on the ground.

*

Iruka grinned and ducked his head as Kakashi stopped ‘accidentally’ brushing his hand as they were walking home from work, and instead twined his fingers in Iruka’s.

Genma spluttered into his cup where he was sitting with Raidou at the tea shop they were passing, and Raidou just smiled happily. Kakashi’s ears reddened slightly as he kept his face turned down into his book.

Iruka smiled as Kakashi untangled their fingers, leaving Iruka with a small note in his palm. He brought it up to his mouth and brushed it with his lips lightly, making Kakashi’s eye darken softly before he curtly nodded and disappeared on yet another mission.

Iruka opened the note, written on a torn up piece of mission scroll.

_I love you_

_I want to drown in your chocolate sin_

Iruka rolled his eyes at the second line, sending an irritated look at a smug Anko who had appeared beside him on the street.

“I hope you realize this is the first time he’s said he loves me,” said Iruka conversationally.

Anko’s eyes widened in horror.

“And you’ve forever ruined my memory with this.”

“No. No, how could it… I mean, he’s says he loves you all the time on missions, what the…”

“Anko, you should run.”

Anko didn’t need telling twice and she disappeared.

Iruka grinned internally, and continued to walk home.

It was the first time Kakashi had said _those_ words, but it wasn’t the first time he had expressed his true feelings. Iruka didn’t think it was the words that were really important. They had already shared their love in many different ways, so he wasn’t actually upset at her prank. After all, if Kakashi really hadn’t wanted Anko pranking his love note, he would have stopped it.

When he got home, he slid off his sandals and shrugged off his vest, hanging it on the hook next to Kakashi’s extra one by the genkan. He took off his hitai-ate and sat down on the couch, looking out the window. He smiled, thinking of Kakashi, and from a thin album in the bookshelf, got out the actual first note that Kakashi had confessed his feelings in. The thin, exquisite card contained Kakashi’s genuine, surprisingly elegant, loping handwriting.

_you destroy me_

At the memories, the storm of emotions in his chest threatened to surge and Iruka wanted to crumple to his knees; but he just touched the edges, and placed the album back in the bookshelf.

Kakashi would be back, and he would always be his home.


End file.
